


Love: an Intoxication

by tommythedankengine



Category: Original Work
Genre: Crime, F/M, Kissing, Murder, Original work - Freeform, Poison, Sneaking Out, being arrested, being used, crime lord, drinking overage, false love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 23:10:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11473623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tommythedankengine/pseuds/tommythedankengine
Summary: Dana Jones is the adult child of the mayor of a crime-ridden city. James Winston is a well-known crime lord who happens to run a rather successful nightclub to cover up his money laundering. Dana seeks more to life than to be locked in City Hall for the rest of her life, so in an act of rebellion, she sneaks out, in which she meets James Winston, a man she is inexplicably drawn to. He is intoxicated to her, and she finds herself willing to do just anything to please him. But, how far will she go?





	Love: an Intoxication

**Author's Note:**

> based on a prompt given to me by a friend; I'm posting this here so my friends can read it with ease. 
> 
> the prompt is: 
> 
> Person A is a notorious crime boss who uses a nightclub as a front to launder money.
> 
> Person B is the mayor's child who longs for a more exciting life then being followed around by press and being confined to city hall because of the crime ridden streets.
> 
> One day Person B runs away in the night in hopes to find excitement among the hooligans. They eventually end up at Person A's night club. Person A recognizes them and invites them into the VIP lounge where Person B, although shy and nervous around the famous crime boss, tells them about how they would like to have more excitement in their lives. Person A says they can help Person B if they help murder the mayor. 
> 
> (If Person B disagrees) Person A seems okay with it but would like to see Person B again. Person B eventually comes back weekly and then eventually every night, without realizing that they are falling in love with Person A. The mayor eventually finds out and tries to have Person A's mafia busted but Person B eventually agrees to kill the mayor in an act of passion.
> 
> (If Person B agrees) Person A tells them to kill the mayor by poisoning their food, insisting that it will make their death quick and painless. When Person B does so, they come back to the nightclub, where the police have accused the mafia for human trafficking. Person B is now rushing to try and prove Person A's innocence while covering up their parent's murder.

Bathed in the light of the full moon, a young woman, lean and vaguely pretty, sits in the window sill of her large bay window. The dull roar of traffic many stories down is the only sound that reaches her ears, besides her own light breathing. Her eyes are glassy, unfocused, and full of unhindered longing. She sighs sadly, lost in thought. 

 

'What I'd give to be out there in the world,' she muses aloud. 'I want more than this life. I want…’ she trails off. ‘Excitement… Passion.' Her face darkens in a blush as she admits to herself in barely a whisper, 'Love.' Her heart yearns for it; years of reading romance novels have spoiled her. 

 

Everyone always assumes being the mayor's daughter calls for a life of luxury. As far as she is concerned, the constant barrage of news reporters following her each of every move is not a luxury. She doesn't wear designer clothing, nor has she never been all too popular (not that she minds, she's content to her friend group). Most friends get tired of the reporters after a few weeks. Not that she can blame them. 

 

What's more disappointing to her, by far, is her confinement to the hallowed halls of City Hall. Her father—bless his heart—has used his "good judgment" as her father to keep her in what she likes to think as house arrest. He calls is keeping her safe. She thinks they differ on their definition of the word “safe.” 

 

Sure, she's 21, and could potentially leave whenever she wants, but in truth, she has nowhere to go. Running away would do no good It's no secret that the city streets are far too dangerous to wander, or, God-forbid, stay out at night. It's not like she has a lipstick gun, or has enough charm in her body to convince her deviously handsome bodyguard/butler to take her out. 

 

She doesn’t resent her father for keeping her practically locked up in their home, per se, but it is not an enjoyable situation. Some days she wonders if maybe her father was gone, then she could escape into the world. Once she’s finally let out, she is going to be dreadfully unprepared. Her routine doesn’t offer her a chance for many experiences.

 

Every day is the repetition of wake up, eat, take a guarded car to her local community college, come home, do homework, and stare out the window. It's boring—every day blends together. She wants more! More, dammit!

 

She wants to feel the wind in her hair—at that she throws her window, which is made of thick glass, wide open, causing an increase in street noises—she wants to feel the adrenaline pumping in her veins, she wants to smile so hard it feels like her face is going to fall off. She wants someone to be proud of her for doing something out of the ordinary.

 

It feels like she is going to die here, sitting on her window sill. And there's no way in hell she's going to settle for that. 

 

'After tonight, I, Dana Jones,' she promises, 'will get the adventure I deserve.' 

 

Saying it out loud makes it seem more real, she decides. 

 

With the grace learned from the numerous novels she has read, Dana deftly shuts the window behind her and leaps off the window sill, slinking across her room and sliding into her bed, a new feeling of resolve filling her. 

 

She is going to do this. She will take her life into her own hands. 

 

 

Across the city, the next night, a man sits behind his desk. He carefully laces his fingers together and surveys the piles of money that decorate his finely made wooden desk. 'How much have we made so far tonight?' he asks, a calculated smile gracing his too-perfect lips. 

 

'More than last night, sir,' one of the men standing across from him states, his sandy blond hair falling over his eyes. 'If we keep this up then we'll have enough to open another one of these... nightclubs.' The other man, with close-cropped black hair, nods in agreement. 

 

'Good,' James Winston says warmly. 'This has worked out so well. Keep up the good work, men.'

 

Recognizing the dismissal, the two men slink out the room with bright smiles. James nods once and turns back to counting the stacks. Ten-thousand here, ten-thousand there, ten-thousand all around! Oh, boy, how nice it is to be a good, wholesome nightclub. 

 

Running a nightclub to cover up for his money laundering, he decides, was the best idea he could have ever come up with. It's ingenious, really. Everyone already expects nightclub owners to be a bit shady, but it's rare that they will be followed up on, as there are far more important crimes to be persecuted. Not little old him. (Except, of course, that he has already made his name in the crime world. He’s just good at inconspicuously paying people off; ten-thousand here, ten-thousand there.) 

 

James Winston is a handsome man in his mid-20s, with clear blue eyes, warm, tanned skin, and long black hair that is delightfully ruffled. He seems younger than his years, and the sparkle in his eyes gives him a look of boyish innocence. His warm disposition juxtapositions the cool, steely gray of his office, and the coolness of his personality and tone. 

 

His seat groans as he pulls himself to his feet to pace his office. He has all that he needs—a booming business, his, uh, activities to supplement it on the side, and loyal friends whom he works well with—but he still feels... empty. 

 

There isn't someone close to him that he enjoys spending copious amounts of time with. A... girl. Woman. Someone who he loves. Someone who could also do some of his dirty work. Priorities. Someone who can fill the gap, perhaps only temporarily. 

 

He begins to move towards the door, hearing his bustling club. It's nearing midnight, and the club is just getting to its peak. The crowd normally doesn't die down until nearly 3 in the morning most days. The party crowd never ceases, even if it’s a Sunday night. 

 

James slides out through the door and is immediately overcome with the stench of alcohol, sweat, and, very faintly, sex. He takes a deep breath; the mix is fairly pleasant. 

 

He grins broadly and makes his way through the crowd, scanning the dancing bunch, looking for anyone that catches his eye. He's a man, and he has his needs. The people's gaze seems alcohol-clouded, lust-filled, and passionate. They eye him hungrily, seemingly understand who he is and what his stature is. Either that or they are flat-out drunk. Either way, he doesn’t care all too much for them. They’re too… normal.

 

James makes a few passes through the crowd, gaining a fell for those out there tonight, but unfortunately not finding anyone particularly interesting. He's seconds away from leaving and hiding back in his office for the rest of the night when his eyes catch someone... intriguing. 

 

She has long, brown hair—unruly, falling over her hazel green eyes—and is rather pretty. It's not her apparent good looks that drew his eyes to her, no, but the look of innocence and fear that colored her look. Making a split second decision, James saunters up to her, throwing on his most charming smile. 

 

'Why, hello there. I'm James,' he introduces himself quickly, flinging out his hand to shake hers. He watches as she stares at his shapely fingers, a look of trepidation in her eyes, before grasping it firmly. 

 

'Dana Jones,' she greets, almost unintelligible. James forces himself not to react to her name; it seems that he has stumbled upon the ever-elusive daughter of the mayor—the one who has been trying to shut down his nightclub for several months now. Good, good. It seems as if this night can't get any better. 

 

'You seem new here,' James comments casually, leaning against the bar to his right, acting like he owns the place. (Which, of course, he does, but that's neither here nor there.) The bartender seems to realize that she shouldn't acknowledge him, a fact that he notes. He will have to make sure that she gets a few extra hundred dollars for her discretion. 

 

Dana gulps. 'Is it that obvious? I thought... never mind.' James smiles, amused by her obvious nervousness. 'I'm not completely innocent, you know!' she blurts out, in a sudden defense of herself. His eyes dance as he watches her falter. 

 

James holds up his hands. 'I'm not saying you are,' he says as he smiles the same smile he was beforehand. 'You just seem a bit... out of place, shall we say? Not innocent, just… inexperienced.’ He leans in and lets her gather a whiff of his cologne. 

 

Hesitatingly, she nods. James recognizes the subtle change in her posture. She relaxes slightly, her hip cocked to the side as she leans forward. She's becoming subconsciously more trusting in James. Good, good. All in a few minute’s work. 

 

'Now, how about you come up to the V.I.P. lounge with me, sweet pea. They'll be... more your speed.' A complete lie, of course, but James is itching to get her in a more private setting. His deft mind is spinning with plans; the daughter of the mayor is a useful ally for him in government. He reaches out a sculpted hand to grasp hers. 

 

'Oh—I don't know...' she trails off, closing her eyes. She seems to be reminding herself of something, before opening her eyes again. 'A-Alright,' she relents, shooting him a toothy smile, and allows herself to be pulled through the crowd and up the nice wooden stairs to a large room. The music is fainter up here, but the booze is flowing and deals (of shady nature) are occurring. 

 

'Welcome,' James says grandly, 'to the V.I.P. lounge.' Dana looks around, wide-eyed, and nods in ascent. Her hand grips his tightly, and he is sure he can hear the pounding of her heart across the short distance between them. 'Are you okay?' he murmurs. 

 

Dana nods jerkily. 'Just peachy.' Her voice cracks, but he doesn't comment on it. He needs to get her to trust him, which shouldn't be hard, by the looks of it. It's well known to the public that the mayor's daughter isn't let out except to go to school because of her overbearing father. James assumes that she must trust just anyone who gives her attention. Which, of course, in beneficial to him. 

 

'Come,' he directs, and places a hand on her back, moving her towards a private booth. He signals to a waitress to bring them some drinks. Once she's sat in the seat and he's facing her, he begins to gently probe her on her intentions here. 

 

'So,' he begins, 'what brings you to this, uh, fine establishment?' Might as well toot his own horn whilst he gets the chance. Ladies love a confident man, even if she doesn't know that he's being confident. It's the thought that counts. 

 

'I... uh... I wanted to get out of the house,' Dana says, playing with the string of her hoodie. James notes that the attire she has on is similar to how he'd dress to sneak out of the house; form-fitting black skinny jeans, a big, black hoodie, and converse. She doesn't look suspicious, but as someone who doesn't want to draw too much attention to themselves. 

 

'Understandable,' James says, 'but why here?'

 

'I... You know my father's the mayor, correct?' Dana asks as if he could not have known that. 

 

'I believe I've heard it mentioned a few times,' James says drily, thinking back to the times where he had tried to force James into shutting down his nightclub on various charges, none of which is true. If only it had been on money laundering... 

 

'Well, he likes to keep me close by. For safety. And, I... I just wanted to do something exciting, something scandalous. By scandalous... well, this is. I know my father doesn't like this place, but, well, I met you, so it can't be  _ that _ bad.' 

 

'I own this place,' James says before he can stop himself. He refrains from covering his mouth, but looks at Dana worriedly, hoping he didn't blow it. 

 

Dana smirks. 'Oh, I know, James Winston,' she says. 'I'm not a dumb little girl. I pay attention. Like I said, I met you, so you can't be that bad.'

 

_ Oh, sweetie, you don't know.  _

 

'I can't say I'm not surprised. I wasn't sure if you recognized me,' James admits. He adjusts his collar and fights to breathe a sigh of relief. 

 

'Like I said, I did. I didn't want to give it away, in case you decided to drop me, knowing who I was, and who my father is. I'm not like him. I don't think you're evil.' Dana leans over the table, fingers dancing over the condensation that has gathered on her glass. 'I think you can give me what I'm seeking.'

 

'Can I?' 

 

Dana captures her lip in her teeth, eyes crinkling. 'I think you can give me excitement.' She falls back into her seat. 'It's what I want. I've craved it for so long. It's why I sneaked out tonight. I was hoping you could give it to me.' 

 

James' mind races. She is basically handing exactly what he needs on a silver platter. How... unusual. 'I think I do.' Dana cocks an eyebrow. 

 

'Shoot.' She sips her drink. 

 

'I want you to kill your father,’ he says without a moment of hesitation.

 

Dana spits her drink out over the table, eyes wide. She mops it up a second later with her sleeve, mortified with her reaction. Although, James understands; what he asked her was absurd. 

 

'You want me to—' she lowers her voice '—murder my father?' Dana sounds shocked, eyeing him up and down. 'I don't—I don't think I can do that.' 

 

'It would be quick and painless,' James assures but understands why she's hesitant. 

 

'I don't hate him. I can't.' Dana tightens her lips, deadset on her decision. James doesn't blame her, but he can't help the slightly disappointed look that he takes on with her decision. 

 

_ You don't hate him, but you resent him. I see it in your eyes _ , he thinks. 

 

'I understand. That was... hasty of me. My apologies, my dear. I hope that you don't think lesser of me,' James says. 

 

Dana leans back in the booth and takes a deep draught of her drink. 'I don't,' she manages finally. 'Let's... how about we start over. I... I like you.' Ah, there's the meekness James knows is in her. 

 

'Let's,' he agrees. He's sure he can convince her, in the future, to agree to the deal. He just has to be patient. And, if he's anything, it's patient. 'Why, hello there, pretty thing. I'm James Winston.' He holds out his hand. 

 

'And I'm Dana Jones. It's a pleasure to meet you,' Dana replies, and takes his hand tightly, and shakes it once. James lightly brushes his lips over her knuckles, a gesture he's come to realize that women fawn over, and laughs slightly as Dana goes bright red.

 

'I assure you,' he says, 'the pleasure is all mine.' 

 

 

 

Dana leaves the nightclub well past 2 in the morning, face flushed and eyes bright. That was brilliant, she decides. Sure, the man had asked her, quite bluntly, to go and murder her father, but once they got over that little bump it was smooth sailing. She grins to herself in the cool night air, briskly making her way back to her home. 

 

Behind her, gunshots fire in the night. She flinches, and moves faster, stretching her tight legs to get home double-time. 

 

No one knows she had left, slipping out the basement window with nary a peep. It's the perfect night to sneak out; a Sunday, where none of the butlers are working, so no one will come to check up on her. If her father does, well, she has an excuse ready: she was in the family library, studying for her midterms that come next week. 

 

Dana knows her father isn't stupid, but he trusts her implicitly and would never think she's lying to him unless it was obvious she was. It hurts to lie to him, and she hopes she doesn't have to use her excuse. 

 

She spent the first half of the night wandering the streets, seeking out an adventure. She bought a churro from a shady place on 5th Street, chatted up strangers with confidence she didn't know she possessed on 10th, and, finally, made it to her final resting place for the night: Winston's Club on 17th. 

 

She'd heard about the place in passing from her father, and nothing good was said. Seeing it with her own eyes, she thought differently. It seems to be a fine establishment. 

 

And, then, she met the owner himself: James Winston. 

 

Even with knowing who he was, she let herself become taken with him, ogling at his clear blue eyes and shaggy black hair. He was sweet to her, commenting on her nervousness (her earlier confidence seemed to have disappeared in his presence), but not making fun of her. They chatted away the night until it was well into the morning and she knew she had to leave. 

 

Dana had said her reluctant good-byes, not promising she would be back but insinuating so. 

 

That's where she is now, trying to make it home after a wonderful night of freedom. Her heart raced when she thinks of James' winning smile and friendly gestures. This... This is what she was looking for. 

 

Still, she doesn't know if she'll come back. It might be too dangerous to sneak out two days in a row, and she already risked a lot to come tonight. Maybe in a week, she thinks, then I can escape back. It's for the best. She can't let anyone, or, God-forbid, her father know that she had sneaked out and met a man. 

 

It would not end well. 

 

Oh, Lord, how she hadn’t known that trouble was coming. 

 

By the time she makes it home, it's half past 3 in the morning. She slips through the still-ajar basement window and creeps up to her room, shedding her inconspicuous clothing as she does so. Finally, Dana enters her bedroom and breathes a sigh of relief, and then one of a pleased person. She did it! 

 

Changing into her nightclothes, Dana collapses on her bed, a smile on her face. It doesn't bother her the next day when she's tired beyond belief, and she gives a simple 'Late night,' answer whenever someone questions her exhausted state. 

 

James Winston doesn't leave her mind for a full week, until she's creeping out the window and into the brisk air once again 7 days later. 

 

 

 

Dana enters the club, sashaying around drunk party-goers and scanning the crowd intently. She hopes that James is there. He probably is, since he owns the place. Maybe he's expecting her tonight since she came last Sunday (well, Monday, at this point.) 

 

She sits on a barstool for several minutes, surveying the room and refusing shots from the helpful bartender. Once the clock ticks past 1 am, and Dana's all be given up, she spots him, moving through the crowd. His nice suit, casual for a club but business-like to show his status, fits him nicely. Dana glances down at her black dress and flats and hopes she looks nice enough. 

 

Pretending not to see him, she swirls her glass of Coke, watching the bubbles pop like it's the most interesting thing in the room. She tenses when she feels a warm, strong hand rest itself on her exposed shoulder, and shudders when she hears his baritone voice whisper, 'I thought you'd never come back.' 

 

Dana turns and giggles. 'Well, here I am now,' she says, gesturing with her right hand in an awkward attempt to be humorous. James' eyes dance with poorly hidden laughter. He seems to be intrigued with her, something she hasn't had the pleasure of experiencing. She likes the feeling. 

 

James takes her hand and guided her up the stairs once again to the V.I.P. lounge. 'So,' he questions, 'what took you so long to get back?'

 

Dana tries not to blush under his intense gaze. Has he always looked at her like this? 'My father. I didn't want to arouse suspicion over leaving two nights in a row.' 

 

'Ah, your father,' James drawls. 'A clever fellow. I quite like him.'

 

'Enough to have him murdered?' Dana asks hotly before she can stop herself. James winks and smirks at her. 

 

'I thought I told you to forget about that, dear,' he says lightly. There's a hint of something more sinister under his charming lit, Dana thinks. It's not frightening, but... intoxicating. She wants more. Though, she’s terrified to get more. Maybe that’s what love is like? You want more but at the same time, the idea of more terrifies you.

 

'My apologies,' Dana manages. 'Now,' she begins again with a grin, 'you promised to tell me more about yourself. I want to know you, James Winston. Tell me. I'm trustworthy.' She puts on her best innocent face and pouts her lips, widening her hazel eye.

 

'Something's have to stay secret, of course, but I will. I did promise. And I  _ never _ break my promises.' 

 

He launches into a story from his childhood. Dana listens raptly as he describes the perfect shade of red of his mother's hair. 'It's like the middle of October when it's cool and crispy and the sun is setting. The red-streaked sunlight over the dirt,' he explains. 'It matched perfectly with her crystal blue eyes. You'd think green eyes and red hair is the best combination, but her icy blue eyes and red hair made her beautiful.'

 

'She sounds lovely,' Dana replies. 'Where is she now?' That seemed to be the wrong thing to say, and Dana watches as James' formed a thin line. 

 

'Gone,' he says, his voice hollow. Dana doesn't press further, lest she anger him. 'That's why I opened the club,' James says finally. 'For her. In her memory. She died when I was young.' 

 

'That's a sweet gesture,' Dana says, but she isn't sure that it's the truth. There's a sort of flash in his eyes that tells her he isn't being completely honest. 

 

'I hope so. She deserves it.' Dana inclines her head, allowing her brown hair to swish over her face. As if acting on impulse, James reaches out to brush it out of her face. At her confused look, he says, 'I want to see your pretty eyes.' 

 

Dana blushes and stays silent. 

 

And that's how their second meeting goes. They talk, once again, well into the night. They stick to lighter topics, flirting with seemingly practiced ease. At least, practiced on James' part; Dana's never got the chance, with her father being overbearing and all. 

 

As Dana stands to leave, James asks, 'When will I see you again?' 

 

Dana places her finger to her lips, tracing them slightly, acting deep in thought. 'Soon,' she replies. 

 

'How soon?' He sounds like he is barely containing eagerness.

 

She meets his icy blue eyes with hesitancy she hasn't had since the beginning of their first meeting. 'As soon as I can.' He seems to accept that as an answer and allows her to slip out of the room. 

 

For a long moment, James sits in the booth, alone, rubbing his temples. Then, he stands, slams down the rest of his whiskey, and confidently struts back to his office. 

 

This girl will be the death of him (or someone else) and will drive him insane. 

 

 

 

Their next meeting is two days after. James spends the evening pacing his office, wondering if Dana is going to turn up. He doesn't want to admit it, but he has grown fond of the girl. Very fond. 

 

He won't say it's love, but it's something he hasn't felt in a long while. (Possibly the satisfaction of using a person without their knowledge? He isn’t sure.) 

 

Finally, when the clock strikes midnight, he leaves his office, locks the door carefully, and slides into the main floor of the club. He scans the crowd, looking for the bright pair of hazel eyes. He spots her quickly and makes his way over with barely concealed happiness. 

 

If he's going to get what he wants, he's going to have to play the part. 

 

 

Dana and James continue to meet for several weeks; Dana slipping out of her house first bi-daily, then quickly becoming a daily occurrence once school lets out for a break. She doesn't know why she is drawn to this stranger (well, no stranger now), but she likes him. Everything about him seems perfect. 

 

Then, a few weeks after they met, they kissed.

 

It was sweet and innocent, perfect for Dana's first kiss. She loved every second of it. She hoped James did too. 

 

'That was my first kiss, you know,' Dana later admits. They're sat in "their" corner of the V.I.P., not trying to hide but everyone knows not to bother them. 'You made it special.' 

 

James laughs warmly. 'I'm glad I did, dear. You deserve the best. In fact...' he pauses to dig through his coat, 'I have a gift.'

 

'For me?' Dana asks, curious. James laughs again. 

 

'Of course, silly; who else?' he responds, digging through his pockets for another second before pulling out a long box. 'I got it specially made for you. Here, open it.' He hands Dana the box and she accepts it with shaking hands. 

 

Pulling off the cover and wrapping, she sees an elegant gold necklace, with the engraving 'D+J' in a heart. It was surrounded by red garnets, her birthstone. 'It's gorgeous!' she gasps, covering her mouth. Dana meets James' gaze with watery eyes. 'Thank you, James.' 

 

'It was no problem. Now, how about we put it on, shall we?' 

 

Dana nods, wordless, and allows James' hands to pull back her hair and fasten the golden necklace. 

 

'Thank you,' she repeats, sliding her fingers over the golden chain. 'I didn't get you anything,' Dana realizes. 

 

'Don't worry about it, my dear. You being here is enough. You know, it's been 2 months since we've met.'

 

'Has it already?' Dana asks. 'Time goes by fast when you're with someone you enjoy talking to, I guess.'

 

'Yes, I guess so,' James agrees. He leans over the table and presses his lips to Dana's. 'You taste like the finest whiskey,' he mumbles, 'sweet and smooth.' He feels Dana shiver at his rumblings. 'Let us move somewhere more... private, shall we?' 

 

'We shall,' Dana replies with hesitation. She follows him like a lost puppy, seemingly trusting him implicitly. 

 

 

 

By the time Dana leaves James' private room an hour later, she's stumbling in pure bliss. Who knew kissing could feel like that? She has really been missing out! Again, she curses her father for keeping her away from life for all these years. She’s missed out on so many experiences!

 

In concern for her safety, James was kind enough to order her a taxi to take her home. It's getting far too cold for her to continue to walk about at night. She thanks him with a kiss and climbs in. 

 

They also hit another large milestone: burning a hole in Dana's pocket sat James' number. Previously, he didn't want her to have it just in case her father found out but decided it was worth the risk. Once Dana is home, she enters it into her phone with a smile. 

 

She's so exhausted—it's nearly 4 am—that she falls asleep right on her covers without taking off her clothes. She sleeps through her first alarm at 7 and second at 7:30, before waking to a knock on the door. 

 

'Dana darling!' a voice calls, still knocking, 'It's time for breakfast!' 

 

'Be out in a m'nute,' Dana replies, still half asleep. 

 

'Alright, dear!' She heard the footsteps leave her door and pound down the hall.

 

With a groan, Dana pulls herself out of bed, swapping into daily clothes, and stomps down to bed. She's so tired that she can barely see a few feet in front of her clearly, but she manages to make it to breakfast without harm.

 

'Good morning,' choruses her father, their butler, and their maid. Her father always believes that their helpers should eat with them, like family. Dana does consider them her family; they’ve practically raised her since her mother left her father when she was a small child.

 

''Morning,' Dana manages through a yawn. 

 

'Late night studying?' her father asks. Dana nods blindly without any real meaning. It's unfortunate that she has to lie to him, but if she doesn't then she can't see James. She butters a slice of toast and tries to avoid her father's gaze. 

 

'You've been studying a lot lately, Dana,' her butler, Jonathan, notes. 

 

'School's demanding, you know?' Dana replies, unconsciously fingering her necklace, serving to bring attention to it. Mistake number one.

 

'What's that?' her father asks. 

 

Dana goes bright red and tries to play it cool. 'Just a necklace, father. Nothing to be concerned about.' 

 

'From whom?' he presses. 

 

'Mallory, it shouldn't be a big deal,' Jonathan interjects. 'It's just a necklace. Besides, a lady must have her secrets.' He winks at their maid, Caitlyn, and smirks. Caitlyn slaps his arm. 

 

'I know, but I'm her father. Who gave you the necklace, Dee?' Dana grimaces at the nickname; her father's used it since she was a child, but it still got on her nerves. It felt inherently wrong, somehow.  

 

'A friend,' she says, hoping he'll accept the answer. Mistake number two. 

 

'May I see it?' He doesn't. Dana shoots "help me" glances at Caitlyn and Jonathan, who both shrug in response. With shaking fingers she undoes the clasp, remembering James' fingers ghosting over her exposed neck. She hands her father the necklace with great reluctance. 

 

Her father's fingers look very much like hers as he studies the golden necklace with interest. After several seconds he asks, his voice steely, 'Who is this "J"?' 

 

'No one,' Dana says quickly. Her father fixed a glare towards her. To her left and right, Dana watches as both Caitlyn and Jonathan attempt to leave the room as hastily as possible without making noise. Now she's alone, great. 

 

'Now, don't lie to me.' 

 

'I'm not lying!' Dana lies. 'No one important.' 

 

'Dana...' her father warns. 'I'm giving you one last chance. Who is "J"?' Dana swallows thickly.

 

'James,' she mumbles. She knows that she isn't going to get out of it. Mistake number three of the day. Look at her; it’s not even 7:45 and she’s made several detrimental mistakes. (Unbeknownst to her, there are several more to come.)

 

'And who is this James?' 

 

'A guy I've been seeing.' Dana sticks her nose up in defiance. 'And you're not going to keep me from him! He shows me that life can be exciting, Father. I need excitement. Not a life like this.' She gestures to the overly fancy dining room they are seated in. 

 

'Dana, you know why I don't like you going out. This city isn't safe,' her father tries. 'How are you seeing him? Who is he?'

 

'I sneak out every night under your nose!' Dana admits smugly. 'And I book it across town to the Winston Club, where I meet with him.' Her father looks horrified. 

 

'James... James Winston? The notorious crime boss? Dana, what are you doing? He's dangerous!' her father roars, his eyes wide. 'He'll kill you!'

 

'He loves me!' Dana yells passionately, sweeping up the necklace in one hand and sprinting out of the room and up to her bedroom. Her arms are shaking and her heart is pounding with adrenaline. What has she done? Her father's going to have him arrested. 

 

'Okay, what can I do?' Dana murmurs, looking around her room hopelessly. Her gaze lands on her cell phone, and she remembers that James gave her his number last night. 'Perfect,’ she whispers. All she has to do is call him and tell him what happened. He'll know what to do. 

 

She hits "call" on his contact, and waits for it to ring. It does so but immediately goes to voicemail. She leaves a panicked voicemail instead. 'James!' she breathes. 'Something has happened. My father knows about us. He's going to do something to you, I know it. Oh, what should I do? I don't want you to go to jail. You've been too kind to me. Please, please answer! You've shown me excitement and adventure. Call me.' Dana ends the voicemail when her voice cracks and she throws her phone onto the bed. 

 

Dana spends several long hours pacing her room, waiting for any sign of James. A few times Jonathan and Caitlyn came to knock on her bedroom door, but she ignored them. 

 

Finally, several hours after her original call, Dana hears her text tone. She throws herself over her bed to grab it, and sees James' name on the screen and nearly faints with relief. 

 

_ Sorry, I couldn't call, baby doll,  _ the text reads.  _ I'm busy with some business. I'm really sorry about what's happened with your father, but I know exactly what to do. You know the thing we talked about our very first night? Do that. Then, I'll be safe. Love you. _

 

Dana exhales shakily. Could she? Could she go through and murder her father. James said it would be quick and painless, just a few drops of the clear liquid he had slipped into her coat. It would be over before she (or her father) knows it.

 

_ Love you.  _

 

He does love her. She can do it for him, for the first man she truly loved. She's going to give him all of her. You're supposed to do hard things for the people you love, right? Plus, maybe she'll finally get the thrill she's seeking. 

 

_ Will do _ , she types.  _ Will text when it's over. Love you too. _ And she sends it. 

 

Now, to gather what she needs. It's nearing lunchtime, and her father likes eat at home for lunch whenever he can. Good, it won't be public. Dana slips the vial of clear liquid into her pockets, an apologetic smile on her face. When she arrives in the dining room, her father is already there. 

 

'Father?' she asks. 'I want to apologize for what I said this morning. You're right. James is too dangerous.' 

 

‘I’m glad you agree,' he muses. 'And I'm glad you came to your senses, as I'm going to ask the police to come and arrest him tonight.' Dana hides her disgust and shock to that. Her father won't be alive to make those orders if her hastily made plan goes to fruition.

 

'Yes, of course, father.' While being careful to make it look accidental, Dana slides her fork off the table. 'Father, may you get that for me?' she asks sweetly.

 

'Of course, my dear. You see, I'm the only man for you!' 

 

'You're right, father,' Dana says through thinly veiled disgust. Making sure he was not facing towards her, she deftly took out the vial, filled up his water with half the contents, and slipped it into her pocket before he was back up again. Now, to wait. 

 

She knows the dining room doesn't have cameras, so no one will assume it was her. Besides, what girl would kill her dear old daddy? 

 

'Thank you, father.' If he realized she is acting weird, he hasn't shown it. She twirled her fork in wait as they tucked into their roast beef sandwiches. He likes his extra spicy, so Dana knows he will drink his water.

 

Her plan comes to fruition minutes later. She watches as he reaches over and takes a big swig of his (unknowingly) poisoned water. From the moment it hits his tongue, Dana knows it worked. 

 

Her father begins to turn blue in the face as the fast acting poison makes its way through his veins. His short cropped brown hair stands juxtaposition to his now quickly paling skin. 'Da-na,' he chokes out. Dana smirks. 

 

'Yes, father?' she asks sweetly. 'I love you.' She watches with grim satisfaction as her father keels over. The deed is done. Now, she can be with her James! 

 

The gravity of what she has done still hasn't hit her when she retrieves her phone to text her love. Of course, after she texts him a quick ‘ _ It's done, see you soon <3’ _ , she skips down to her dining room and begins to play the part of a horrified and distraught daughter. 

 

'My daddy!' she wails to the policemen as the EMTs zip up her stone-dead father in a body bag. 'What will I do without him? He—He raised me!' She bursts into fake tears, allowed most of her weight be carried by the policemen. 

 

'Do you know who did this?' a policeman asks. He seems uninterested in her crying, just scribbling things down on his 

 

Dana puts on her best innocent face and shakes her head. 'No, sir,' she says sadly, tears still streaming down her face. 'I don't. M-Maybe Caitlyn or Jonathan will have a clue.'

 

'We'll be back to do more questions tomorrow,' she is informed.

 

'Y-Yes sir,' she blubbers, while secretly thanking her lucky stars. Tonight, she will make her bid for freedom.

 

 

 

Jonathan and Caitlyn both leave to stay with their families for the night, leaving Dana at home, unsupervised, for the first time in her life. She grins wickedly to herself and prepares herself to go see James. Her night will continue as planned, but now she doesn't have to sneak out. 

 

She walks with a spring in her step in the dying sunlight to Winston's Club. Her smile is bright and shining as if the gold necklace clasped around her neck. She's free! (It still hasn't come to her what she has done. Not yet.) 

 

Dana flings the door to the barely open club wide open and walks in like she owns the place. She's running on the adrenaline high. 'Ja-ames!' she calls in a sing-song voice. She sees his black haired head poke out of a nearby doorway, his eyes lighting up. 

 

'Hello there baby doll,' he greets. 'So I hear it's done. Your father is...?'

 

'Dead!' Dana says enthusiastically. 

 

'Good girl, you followed instructions,' James said with a grin. 'You seem to be quite the sadistic one.'

 

'Only for you,' she purrs and gives him a huge hug. 'Now I don't have to sneak out to see you—I can see you all the time!' 

 

James laughs. 'Of course, baby doll. I'm here for you, whenever you... uh... can.' James breaks their hug to stand back, laying a hand on the back of his neck and rubbing it. 'The thing is... I can't have a murderer around the shop. I love you, dear, but it's bad for business. I've taken the liberty of setting up an escort for you, outside.' Just outside the club, Dana can hear the sirens of police cars.

 

Dana stands in front of James, her heart breaking. Her lower lip wobbles dangerously. 'W-What do you m-mean? I-I thought if I did this you would be proud of m-me?' 

 

'I am proud, baby doll. Immensely. You fell into right where I needed you the most. I admit, I thought I needed someone to love, to fill the gap, which you did so perfectly. But, unfortunately, that need is not permanent. What did your daddy say? Never trust a crime lord? Well,' he kisses her forehead, 'consider this lesson learned. Take her away, boys!'

 

Dana watches in closely concealed horror as two hidden policemen (who have obviously been paid off not to arrest James) come and force her to place her hands behind her back. 'Ms. Dana Jones, you are under arrest for the murder of Mallory Jones.' 

 

Dana takes a second to recapture her voice. 'No!' she screams. 'He—' she points her finger at James, who is smirking, 'he made me do it.' 

 

'Sorry, sweet pea, you did it all of your own accord. Please, officers, take her from my club, it's ruining the business.' 

 

The last thing Dana sees of James Winston is his smirking face as she is dragged away and thrown into a police car. 

 

She got what she was asking for, just two months before. She got an adventure. And one that she certainly deserved. 


End file.
